to say I am lost would be to imply that, at one point, I was present.
My presence was ignored from the time I crawled the floors,
feelings inside developed into sores
boring onto my soul scars.
My father, my guide, idolised in mind.
They say love is blind but
when eyes open and you find monsters, sponsors of crime
doing time for an easy dime,
can you carry that love on
or does that one idol burn?
I am lost or
rather never found, no guide by my side,
just going with the tide and building walls, to keep these feelings back,
that torment my mind.
The foundries of feeling’s forges have gone cold, Shut away and barricaded
by un-shaken walls.
So I wander, in search of myself,
if I’ll be found or
if I’m bound for a battery of life: